


close encounters of the third kind

by embryonic



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-10
Updated: 2013-09-10
Packaged: 2017-12-26 05:53:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/962386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embryonic/pseuds/embryonic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After all, <em>this</em> - these brief meetings and obscure interludes – it wasn't real life. Just a project. An experiment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	close encounters of the third kind

 

She was stoned out of her mind the night she first met Beth.

It was after midnight and she was shivering as she made her way back to her apartment. San Fran was unusually cold for October and she figured that the cough she felt coming on was inevitable. She searched through her purse until her fingers felt the smoothness of a tin case meant for cigarettes and pulled out the anticipatory joint she'd rolled at the beginning of the night. She had begrudgingly taken a break from her admission's essay to meet up with her former Bio Lab partner who claimed to have come up on a grade-a stash of kush. It ended up being remnants of what was possibly the shittiest hash she's ever smoked and unfortunately, the company didn't make up for it at all. He was one of those highly non-functioning stoners who couldn't carry on a decent conversation for the life of him, so after kicking his ass at Bioshock, she called it quits and made up some lie about having an early morning.

So now she was on her way home, alone, with the nagging feeling that someone was following her. She got the same vibe on the walk there, but thought nothing of it. There were always bums lurking around and after living her entire life in their presence, it didn't really bother her. But this was different. As soon as she left, a car started up. She turned left, it turned left. Perhaps, Cosima pondered, the joint had done its job a little too well and she was just emitting signs of paranoia.

Either way, as soon as she passed a liquor store, she ducked in and picked up a bottle of Merlot, keeping her eye on the now parked car across the street. She took her change and made a beeline for the driver's side window before the creep could start the ignition.

“Listen, asshole -” She started. But anger quickly dissolved into confusion as she saw who her potential stalker was. A woman. And she had _her_ face. Not just like, a little familial resemblance, though - this girl was a full-on doppelganger.

“Holy watershed.”

 

The first thing her long lost twin (Beth, apparently) did was assure her that she was not here to harm her. _Obvs_ , Cosima thought to herself, picking up on the distinctly freaked out look that Beth was wearing. It was probably her curiosity more than anything that made Cosima feel as though she weren't in danger. This woman really didn't give off any threatening vibes. Just fear. She could tell she was afraid of something the minute she started talking. Beth told her that if they could go somewhere, she would explain everything. And all too eagerly, Cosima agreed.

 

She took her to a bar. It was a small one; a dive she knew of with astoundingly cheap beer and the constant presence of old dudes shamelessly eyeballing the hell out of her tits. The twin thing didn't ward off their staring at all.

When they sat down at a booth near the back of the bar, Cosima ordered an IPA and Beth asked for wine. Her hands were shaking. “So,” Cosima started nervously. She couldn't help but be wracked with anticipation. “Lemmee guess. You're my long lost twin and only recently discovered my existence via Facebook?” Beth's expression was hesitant. “No?” Cosima continued. “Fine. Well we're definitely related somehow. Obvs.” She began rambling off potential explanations, from the possibility of sharing the same dominant physical features while lacking any actual blood ties, to the absurd theory of having parents who were both sets of twins and married each others counterparts. And finally, in an attempt to lighten the mood, “Clones?”

She watched Beth's breathing still on the last one. Cosima laughed. She couldn't help it. But the other woman's expression didn't lessen. “Hold up,” Cosima started, “Is this a joke? Are you actually trying to tell me that I have a _clone_?”

“Look, um, Cosima,” Beth began hesitantly, digging through her bag and pulling out various forms and photographs. From the likes of it, she was well prepared. “I know that it's hard to believe – and we're not really sure, you know, exactly _what_ we are. But there are more of us.”

Her head was fuzzy from the weed and the beer, and Cosima was struggling to wrap her head around the present situation.

Beth continued. “I flew in from Toronto to come meet with you. We decided it was best to break the news in person.”  
“Wait, okay,” Cosima shook her head, “Who exactly is _we_?”

“There are many others. I can't – I'm still researching how many exactly, but as far as who's in contact with each other? Myself,” She began, and then with the aid of three photocopied passports, Cosima's included, “The German, Katja.” She pointed to another twin, with short red hair. “Allison, she lives in Toronto as well.” This one looked a little frigid – perfectly straight bangs and a tight-lipped smile – but identical nonetheless. “And then there's you.”

“Right.” She nodded dumbly. There were so many questions racing through her brain that it was hard to choose which one to ask next. “And how exactly did you find me?”

Beth opened her coat, briefly, to flash a golden badge at her. “I'm a cop.” She said. “I used facial recognition.”

It just kept on getting better.

“All right,” Cosima said, “Okay. It's just that...I mean. Don't get me wrong, the whole clone thing sounds super interesting but – I'm not sure how to say this without sounding catty , so – prove it?”

The other woman studied her before finishing the last of her wine. “We were hoping you could help with that, actually. You study science, right?”

She perked up a little at that. “I'm an evo-devo student, yeah. Crossing my fingers that I get into the University of Minnesota so I can work on my Doctorate.” She finished the last of her beer and looked around for the bartender.

“Good,” Beth said, “That's good. Because we're still looking for answers. Katja,” She began, until the bartender sauntered over to collect their empty glasses, and fill Cosima's request for another. Beth lowered her voice a little, “Katja, she was in contact with another identical in Europe. She was Russian military and apparently had information. She'd mentioned human cloning, but refused to give anymore information unless they met in person.”

“Okay,” Cosima nodded, enraptured, “And?”

Beth leveled her with a look. “And she got shot on their way to meet with each other.”

“Jesus.” Cosima blinked. “For real?”

The other woman's expression turned grave. The corners of her lips down-turned, eyes darker. Cosima looked at her and thought about the similarity of their reactions. Did she have the same wrinkle in her forehead when she frowned? Was Beth's nervous jitter a genetic thing that they shared or something she picked up on her own? Nature versus nurture at its finest. Despite the very apparent danger of the situation, Cosima was fascinated.

“We think someone's hunting us. We don't know who or why, but I think that figuring out _what_ we are, or where we came from might help.”

She looked at Cosima expectantly. Gravity started weighing down on her. About thirty seconds ago, this whole thing just seemed like an awesome science experiment. But now? She was beginning to grasp the reality of it all. She started to feel drunk. Maybe she had passed out long ago and was dreaming this all. She'd spent all week in the lab researching genetic material, so this was probably how her brain dealt with the overload of information. Probably.

Cosima took her glasses off and rubbed at her eyes. “Jesus fucking Christ.” She muttered to herself. She felt a hand cover her own when she set it on the table and Beth's identical (yet oddly different, somehow) voice, “I know it's a lot to handle. Trust me, I do, it's just -” At this, Beth rubbed at her own temples, “We _need_ answers. And we have to start somewhere.”

It was too real. This, Beth's skin, her voice, her hair – everything was intensely, frighteningly real. And despite herself, Cosima wanted answers too. “Fine. But I'll need samples.”

Beth looked relieved. “I figured.” A small pouch was pulled out. “Hair and blood samples. Only mine and Allison's though. We're working on getting the German's.”

Cosima nodded. “Okay. So if it turns out we _are_ clones – what then?”

“One day at a time, Cosima.” The name sounded odd, rolling off of the tongue of a woman who's face was so familiar. “Like, I said, we've got to start somewhere.”

 

Cosima spent weeks looking at the evidence Beth left her with. Women with her face. Different names, different lives completely. But it was true: their genetic material was _identical_. She ran the tests over and over again; even brought in a third party intern to look at the results to be sure she wasn't delusional. She couldn't believe it; and yet, she wanted _more_. More information, more details. This was a scientists _dream_. She had so many questions, so much information that she couldn't share with _anyone_ that she was practically bursting inside.

And then Katja told her she was sick. The symptoms were oddly familiar, and this smokers cough she'd made peace with took a turn for the worse. She didn't tell the others. Maybe it was nothing. But Katja's doctors were at a loss and her health just kept on worsening.

The group held various meetings and kept in constant contact with each other until a plan was devised. Katja would meet up with Beth after Allison wired her enough money for a plane ticket. The briefcase would be handed off and Cosima would test the DNA for abnormalities.

Only problem was, somewhere along the way, Beth started keeping secrets. She was never very good at keeping the others fully in the loop anyway, but that didn't really bother anyone. They each played a role. Cosima dealt with the science stuff. It was what she was good at. And Beth dealt with – well, a _lot_ more than any of them realized, apparently. And she was _always_ on time.

So she began to panic, slightly, when Beth stopped answering her phone.

“Have you heard from her?” She stupidly asked Allison the day Katja was meant to fly in from Berlin.

“What do you mean have I _heard_ from her?” The high-pitched answer obviously meant _no_. Her voice grew quieter, “She is _supposed_ to be at the airport right now, retrieving the briefcase. I wired the money to the German. She bought the plane ticket. That was the plan, was it not?”

“Yes, yes, Allison,” Cosima reassured her with an eye roll, “That was the plan. Beth's phone must've died or something. I'll keep you updated.” She hung up the phone and lit a joint before she caught the other woman's aneurism or something.

She cracked her neck. Stared at her laptop. It would be fine, she was sure. Beth was the reliable one. Although, she couldn't help but think back to their last few conversations. She seemed out of sorts, and Cosima couldn't quite figure out why. Her eyes were becoming tired and bloodshot. Her sentences mere fragments of what they used to be. She figured it was a work thing, or a relationship thing. After all, _this -_ these brief meetings and obscure interludes – it wasn't real life. Just a project. An experiment.

“Just one. I'm a few. No family too. Who am I?”

The riddle made way into her dreams that night. Blank face after blank face surrounding her, approaching her, attacking her. Blank faces, but the same. She woke up choking. It was the first sign of blood.

There was nothing she could do but wait. But as phone call after phone call went ignored, her panic increased.

And then finally, shit hit the fan. Sarah was Beth and Beth was dead. There were more questions. Everything was becoming more _real._ Things did not stay under a microscope as they had before.

The night she meets Sarah in person, all rough around the edges and wanting so many answers, she thinks back to Beth's words; their first meeting. “We have to start somewhere.” _And_ , Cosima wonders,  _what now?_


End file.
